Where Angels Fear to Tread
by Adamantwrites
Summary: Little Joe's guardian angel asks for a change of assignment.


Where Angels Fear to Tread

"Your Immortal Glory," the angel said, "I have come to ask—to plead—to beseech your Magnificence for a different assignment, with all respect due to the Divine Intelligence that has chosen the object for me to protect."

"Ditch the formalities," the archangel said. "I'm busy so let me get to the point—I won't change your assignment. You were given him at the moment of his birth and you are, as the mortals say, and they do say the funniest things, stuck with him—like it or not. Dismissed."

The angel dropped to his knees and entreated the being before him. "But I am such a failure—and I don't think it's my fault but look at me—I'm molting from stress! Look!" The angel fluttered his wings and feathers dropped. He caught one in his hand. "I'll soon be nothing but bare struts and bones!"

The archangel sighed-he had actually been expecting this and had to admit that Joe Cartwright was a greater burden than any other young man his age.

"Supriel," the archangel said, "you've managed to keep him alive and able-bodied this long, what makes you think you're a failure?"

"He tasks me, he tasks me. No matter where he goes, he takes that temper with him and then he loses it. Ka-boom!" Supriel moved his hands in imitation of an explosion. "I've tried to prevent him from throwing the first punch but with my being made of ether, well, it's a bit difficult for me to stop his fist—he goes right through me and I swear, his will is stronger than mine. Why just last night, Little Joe was in a fight at the Bucket of Blood. I tried to protect him by restraining the guardian angel of his opponent. The two of us ended up rolling across the saloon floor while our two charges exchanged blows until the sheriff came to arrest both of them for drunk and disorderly conduct. We spent the night in jail."

"Well, that explains the state of your ethereal gown."

"Yes, well, I haven't had the time or the energy to clean it. A few spittoons were toppled and someone tracked in horse manure…"

"And that explains the smell."

"All I ask is a small vacation—a few months in human time to regroup my efforts. Joe is walking the line—he's seeing a lovely young lady but her father is keeping his shotgun ready just in case Little Joe shows up, um, after hours so to speak. And I know that boy—Joe will go climb in her window one night soon. You know how he is as well as I do. I can't believe that I was so thrilled to have such a beautiful infant as my charge. Ah, he did my heart proud—so beautiful.

"And I protected him from hot stoves—why he didn't even need to burn himself once to know he wasn't to touch hot things. And Little Joe was such a charming child and so smart—everyone loved him. The early years were so easy. His older brothers protected him and his father and mother and then, when his mother died, why I comforted him by sending him pleasant dreams and his family enveloped him in their cocoon of love and comfort. But now, why now I can barely keep up with him.

"And the way he rides that horse of his, wheeling around on it, mounting differently than everyone else-I'm surprised he doesn't swing himself up and go all the way over to the other side and land on his ass. But that temper is the worst. Oh, I can't bear to think of it." Supriel, rising from his knees, remembered Joe's expression when he wanted sympathy—puppy-dog eyes. Supriel cast his eyes on the archangel in imitation of Joe's expression. "Please…"

"Well…maybe—no. Stop looking at me that way!"

"See? Little Joe does that and it works. I don't suppose I could trade off charges, watch over one of his brothers for a change? They do get into difficult situations but that Little Joe—it's always something. Why one would think that the whole universe likes to see him suffer!"

"He is who he is," the archangel said. "And he's yours. Now go freshen up—and shine up that aura—and get back to your charge. He's going to get into an argument with his father and if you're not there, Little Joe will probably say something he shouldn't."

"Yeah, like I can stop him," Supriel muttered to himself.

"What?"

"Well, it's not like I can stop him from saying anything. Many times I have whispered in his ear to shut his mouth, shouted in his ear, clapped my hand over his mouth, even pinched him to get his attention but he is the most contrary, hot-headed being with whom I have ever had to deal!"

"Well, get down there and try! Perhaps you should let him say things to anger his father—maybe then he'll be punished and restricted to the house, not go to the young woman's bedroom and be saved from a backside full of shotgun pellets."

Supriel paused. Maybe he had been going at this protection thing the wrong way. "You know," Supriel said, wagging one finger, "you may just have something there. I should let him get into a small trouble in order to protect him from the greater. But…and I know it's discouraged, but maybe if I could appear before him—looking more awesome than this, of course, and scare the Jes…I mean the jeepers out of him."

"It's too early in Joe's life for that. Wait until he's older. Wait until his life seems not worth living, then perhaps you can make an appearance."

"Yes," Supriel said as his gown and aura began to regain their former glory. "When Little Joe thinks that life is hopeless, I will give him hope, wipe away his despair and give him a new reason to live."

"Ah," the archangel said. "Now that is the proper divine view."

Supriel smiled but then his wings drooped. "Now, if I can just get him through this week…"

~ Finis ~


End file.
